The Restoration of the Chamber of Secrets
by Mariel Flint
Summary: Draco Malfoy has two children: Forrest and Frances. The 11 year olds are at Hogwarts and Frances has discovered a new power and a mystery within Hogwarts. Back at home, Draco is trying to find out why Ginny Weasley is missing. Paused
1. Forrest and Frances

_**Frances Malfoy and the Restoration of the Chamber of Secrets **_

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any lyrics used in this story. As for you reviewers, I am also working on **_Love, Lies, Mercury Messenger, and iPods_**'s chapter 3, no need to worry.

Chapter 1: Forrest and Frances

In Draco's flashback…

_He rolled over in bed and stared at her, her blonde hair all over the place. She looked back and giggled. He rolled his eyes and cracked his neck. She flung the sheets off and revealed her naked body. She quickly pulled her clothes on and put her hair up into a sloppy ponytail. Then she turned to him, her hand extended._

_He looked back at her confusedly, "What?"_

_She wrinkled her nose and demanded, "Pay up."_

_He gaped, "Pay up? What do you mean, pay up?"_

_She crossed her arms, "I slept with you and you were the worst I've ever had, now pay up."_

_He sat up in bed and defended his bent ego, "I slept with you because I thought we were dating not because you're a prostitute, Ashley."_

_She scathingly replied, "Yeah right, like I'd date you. C'mon Draco, you really didn't think that we had something did you?" There was a pause. Then she extended her arm once more, "Just pay me."_

_Draco slowly stumbled over to his pants and pulled out thirty-three galleons. He turned and handed the money to the girl._

_Before walking out the door, she turned and said, "I'm sorry, Draco. It just never would've worked out. I'm a Muggle prostitute and you're a rich, pureblood wizard."_

_She shut the door acutely, leaving Draco alone in the small, dim hotel room._

Draco jerked in his chair. He looked around and discovered he had fallen asleep on his desk in the study of his father's house. He yawned and shut off the lights and headed upstairs. He paused outside the fifth door on the left, his old room. It was now inhabited by his son, Forrest. He quietly opened the door and walked into the room, which was dimly lit by a small, plug-in night light that cast a blue print of moons and stars on the wall above it. Draco moved towards the bed to tuck in Forrest and found that it wasn't just Forrest, but Forrest's twin sister, Frances also. He smiled and tucked in the silvery-blonde-haired children and closed the door, heading into his room. Once his head hit the pillow, he fell into another flashback.

_Someone knocked on the door loudly. It was pouring very hard, just like the night he had last seen Ashley. He quickly ran to the door and opened it, revealing none other than Ashley herself._

_He gasped and asked, "Ashley, what are you doing here?" Then he noticed a large bundle in her arms, "What's that?"_

_Ashley's chin quivered, "I'm sorry, Draco. I don't want to leave you like this; it was a mistake. But I wouldn't be able to handle it. I'm too young and poor." She handed the bundle to him and ran off to the car parked in his driveway._

_Draco shut the door and carried the bundle into the den and began at the blankets wrapped around it. Inside he discovered two sleeping babies, one female and one male. He struggled for breath and picked up the note that was included. It read:_

**Draco-**

**I'm sorry about all this. It was never meant to happen. Yes, the babies are yours. When they had a DNA check it came back all weird and the doctors said that the DNA wasn't human. That's when I knew it was yours because you're a wizard. I couldn't get an abortion because I knew that if I kept them they could have a good life with you. I hope everything turns out well.**

**-Ashley**

_Draco looked at the sleeping babies and sighed, "Welcome home, kids." He paused, "Goddamned slut."_

It was Sunday morning at 6:00 and Draco was sitting in the sunny kitchen, reading his newspaper. Forrest and Frances were eating their breakfasts, which consisted of Pop Tarts and milk. The eleven year olds sat quiet for a moment. Then suddenly Frances kicked Forrest.

"Ouch! Leave me alone Frances or I'll go put Eddie in the toilet again!" Forrest yelled across the table.

Eddie was France's pet iguana. Frances smirked.

"I don't care, he likes it."

Forrest turned to his father, "Dad, tell the barmy brute to leave me alone!"

Frances smoothly rolled syllables off the tip of her tongue, "Draco won't do anything. He'll just sip his coffee and say 'Stop fighting, you two.'"

Narcissa bounded into the kitchen and loudly requested, "Frances, dear, put your feet on the floor; you'll dirty your skirts. And how many times have I asked you to call your father 'Dad' or 'Father'?"

Frances shrugged, "Who cares if my skirts get dirty?"

"I do, now finish up your breakfast and go find your grandfather; we're going to Diagon Alley to pick up your things for the school year."

Frances took a sip of her milk. Then she kicked her brother under the table once more and speedily fled the kitchen.

Forrest cried out, "Grandmummy! She kicked me again!"

Narcissa shook her head, "You two will have to learn to get along."

Frances bounced down the dark, moldy-smelling corridors in the dungeons of her grandfather's manor. She was about to open the door to her father's lab when the dark door at the end of the hallway caught her grey eye. She crept down the hallway and put a hand on the doorknob.

"_Never go into that room, Francesca." _Her grandfather's words echoed in her head.

"_Why, Papa? What's in there?"_

"_Things that should remain unseen by little girls with bouncing blonde curls."_

Frances rolled her eyes and deliberately opened the door and entered the dark room. It smelled of dead bodies; she plugged her nose. She saw a spider scurry across the floor and she dropped to her knees chasing it. The spider plunged under a curtain that divided half the room from the other. Frances stood up and pulled the curtain back, discovering a hooded figure slumped in a throne-like chair. The figure moved, and though she could not see its face under the hood, she knew it was looking at her.

Frances took two large steps back, running into the curtain, and asked, "Who are you?"

The figure sat still for a moment and then asked quietly in a cold, raspy, high-pitched voice, "Who are _you_, little girl?"

Frances frowned, "I asked you first."

The hooded figure chuckled, "A hasty young lady, aren't we?" Frances crossed her arms and the figure went on, "I'll answer your questions if you answer mine first. Fair?"

Frances put her hands down at her side, "I suppose. My name is Francesca Adrienne Malfoy. Everyone calls me Frances, though."

She stuck her hand out to have the figure shake it, but the figure did not offer his. Frances put her hand down, perplexed.

"Why won't you shake my hand?" she asked.

The figure replied, "I am sick, Frances, very sick."

"Oh. What's your name?"

"Thomas." the man answered.

Frances stood for a moment and then said, "My grandfather is waiting for me. I have to go now, but I'll come visit you again."

The man called after her, "Frances, my dear, could you pour me a glass of wine before you go?"

Frances nodded and poured the wine and handed it to him.

He motioned towards a table next to his chair, "Just put it over there, thank you."

Frances obeyed and left the room. She wound back around the dungeon corner and knocked on her grandfather's door.

A loud, cold voice boomed from the other side, "What do you want?"

Frances yelled back to her grandpa, "It's me, Papa. Can I come in?"

Lucius Malfoy's tone softened and he replied, "Yes, Francesca, come in precious."

Frances opened the door and shut it briskly behind her and turned to her grandfather, who was slumped over another pile of paperwork, "What's that Papa?"

"It's some documents I must fill out for the Minister. Don't mind it, dear. What did you come for?" Lucius slurred and took a sip of his fire whiskey.

"Grandmummy told me to come get you; we're leaving for Diagon Alley." Frances replied as she ran her fingers over the smooth keys of the grand piano wedged in the corner.

Lucius stacked his papers up and finished off his fire whiskey and then said, "Come along dear, we don't want to keep your grandmother waiting."

He held out his large hand and Frances took it. He led the small girl up the dungeon stairs.

Midway up Frances stated, "Papa, your hands are as cold as ice."

Lucius looked down at his granddaughter, "Tis only because I've been down here so long."

Frances shrugged and opened the door for her grandpa. The rest of the lot had already left. Lucius led Frances fully into the kitchen and disapparated.

The bustle of Diagon Alley had always been intriguing to Frances, but her most favorite part was accompanying her grandfather to Knockturn Alley. Another part she always enjoyed was meeting up with her and Forrest's playmates: the Zabini children. Draco had told Frances the story of how his best friend Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson met and fell in love. The outcome of their little love fiasco was a pregnant Pansy at age seventeen. Now the Zabinis had three children: Violet, who was 14; Xavier, who was eleven (Frances and Forrest's age); and Eleanor, who was seven years old.

Xavier Zabini resembled his father greatly, with his dark, shaggy hair and green eyes and his cunning facial features, especially when he smirked. Xavier was, in a way, quite sadistic. He liked to kill creatures such as spiders, frogs, and birds with the dark curse: Avada Kedavra. He spent lots of time with Forrest, who acted a lot like Draco in his young age, plotting and scheming against adults and the other children. But the quality Frances admired in Xavier was the way he treated her. Though he would make fun of her when Forrest and other kids were around, Xavier liked to play overprotective boyfriend. He would not allow Frances to play with other boys, at least when he was around, nor would he let her wander around by herself, at least when he could walk with her, looking like a body guard. Xavier had once kissed Frances at one of his parents' balls, but she had pulled away and called him disgusting.

Lucius pulled his silver-blonde-haired granddaughter into Olivander's Wand Shop and rang the bell for the old man.

Mr. Olivander appeared from the back of the store and saw Lucius, "Ah, Mr. Malfoy. Glad to see you again…haven't seen you around since young Mr. Malfoy came in for his wand. What may I help you with today?"

Lucius answered, "I'm here for a wand for my granddaughter, Francesca. And young Forrest will be in soon also."

Mr. Olivander raised an eyebrow and was about to comment when the door opened and Forrest stepped in, dressed in his new school robes.

Mr. Olivander started again, "These are Draco's children, I'm assuming?"

Lucius nodded, "You assumed correct."

Mr. Olivander pressed his lips into a fine line, "Ah, yes, well then, Francesca first."

He disappeared and came back with a box. He opened it and handed it to Frances. Frances stepped back and tested the wand. Nothing happened. She tried again. Nothing again. She turned to her grandfather and then to Mr. Olivander. Mr. Olivander took the wand and retrieved another one. Frances tried it. The floorboards rumbled beneath everyone and she quickly handed the wand back to Olivander. The old man shook his head and came back with yet another wand. Frances took it and as soon as she had, a soft tingling feeling soared through her body.

Mr. Olivander said, "Well, Miss Malfoy, it seems as though you've found your wand."

Frances studied the wand in her hand. It was thirteen inches, with a dark walnut wood. The end where her fingers wrapped around was polished black. She admired the wand.

Olivander interrupted her thoughts, "That wand has one brother model. That wand belongs to the dark witch Bellatrix Lestrange."

Lucius smirked silently to himself. Frances sat down with her wand and waited for Forrest to be done. Finally Forrest received his wand and Lucius paid for it. The group of three left the store.

Lucius turned to Forrest, "Go find your grandmother, son."

Forrest nodded and ran off. Then Lucius led Frances into Madam Malkin's Robes. He waited in the front room as Madam Malkin 'ooed' and 'ahhed' over Frances.

"You've gotten so big since last spring, my darling! And you're hair has just bleached out! Look at you, as pretty as a picture!"

Frances smiled and nodded her head in turmoil. This plump woman gave her a headache. Madam Malkin stood her on a platform and took her measurements.

"I'll be back, dear." The plump woman waddled off into the back room.

Frances studied her pale face in the mirror when she heard a familiar voice, "I do say she's right. Pretty as a picture."

Frances whirled around and met the back of Xavier Zabini, who was getting his pants tailored. She put her hands on her hips and watched his smirking face in the mirror.

"You could say the same about yourself, Zabini." Frances crossed her arms.

Xavier derided, "I'm as pretty as a picture?"

Frances retorted, "No. But you could fool one as the devil in disguise."

"Am I as good looking as Forrest?" Xavier inquired.

Frances snickered, "That's not comparing much. My brother looks like Draco, who looks like a slightly manly pixie."

Xavier chuckled and chewed down on the bubble gum he had placed under his tongue. Madam Malkin returned with a pile of robes and Frances began trying them on. Within the next half hour, they were finished and Frances made her way up to the front room. Xavier, who had finished earlier, was waiting in the chair next to her grandfather.

Frances smiled and said, "Two of my favorite men. If only I had a camera."

Lucius smiled and shook his head, not looking up from the _Daily Prophet_. Xavier jumped out of his chair and stalked over to Frances.

Frances asked her grandfather, "Can we go walk around, Papa?"

Lucius looked at his pocket watch, "Meet me at the entrance to Knockturn Alley at eight o' clock."

Frances nodded and stepped out of the shop, Xavier right behind her.

They began walking down the alley and Xavier asked, "So did you get your wand?"

"Yes. And guess what. Mine is the same model that Bellatrix Lestrange has. I thought it was so cool." Frances replied.

Xavier shrugged, "That is pretty cool. I don't think anyone famous had mine, but anyway." There was a silence and then, "I heard that Luke Potter got his father's wand."

Frances snarled, "Who gives a shit? I hate the whole lot of Potters. Besides, that's probably a rumor. I doubt the great Harry Potter would give up his precious wand. What would he protect himself against Voldemort with?"

Xavier, unlike everyone else, did not flinch when she said the Dark Lord's name, "I don't know. I was just repeating what I heard from Violet."

"Your sister is a siege against all truths that exist in our social society. She needs to get her facts straight." Frances retorted.

Xavier shrugged, "I suppose you're right."

The two walked into the Flourish and Blott's bookstore. There they came face to face with the only son of Harry and Cho Potter, Lucas, and his best friend Henry, the one of many children of Ron and Hermione Weasley. Among the group were the rest of the Weasley children, only two of them older than Henry. Charlotte, who was the same age as Violet Zabini, fourteen; Rupert, who was thirteen; Eva, who was ten; Chloe, who was nine; Samuel, who was eight; Oliver, who was seven; Ingrid, who was six; David, who was four; and Nathan, who was two and being held by Charlotte. The Weasleys that were not there included: Ron, Hermione, and their unborn baby.

Frances grimaced and snarled, "What do we have here? A herd of Mudbloods, no doubt."

Xavier snickered and Lucas Potter, being just like his father, shouted, "We are not Mudbloods!"

Xavier scoffed, "Do you even know what a Mudblood is, Potter?"

Luke thought for a moment, "Not really."

Frances crossed her arms, "It's a Muggle trying to be a wizard. That means you don't fit in, so go back to where you came from, Mudblood."

"I'm a wizard!" Luke yelled.

"No you're not; your mummy and daddy aren't." Frances mimicked the boy's whiny voice.

Lucas replied, "My dad and my mum are _both_ wizards."

Xavier nudged Frances, "They are, Frances."

Frances growled and turned to Henry, "Potter's gotten himself out of this one, but _you_, Weasel are a Mudblood, because you're mummy is a Mudblood. Even though your dad may have been a Pureblood, that only cancels out half of your disgusting mother's blood, which makes you a Half-blood."

Henry grew red, as did the rest of the Weasley children. Charlotte, who was still holding little Nathan, stepped up and went nose to nose with Frances.

"You better hope you're as sly as you think you are, Malfoy. Because the way I see it, you're nothing but an arrogant little bitch."

Frances smirked and pretended to brush dirt off her shoulder, "Oh don't worry, I _am_ as sly as I think I am and I _am _an arrogant bitch."

Charlotte's face darkened, "You little bastard." Frances stiffened. Charlotte saw this as a weakness and said, "Don't try to defend yourself now, princess. You are a bastard; you never knew your mother, did you?"

Frances began to tremble with anger. Xavier put an arm around her shoulder, in attempt to calm her and hold her back at the same time.

Then he spat at Charlotte, "My sister's told me about you, Weasley. Just don't forget, not only will Vi be at Hogwarts this year, but we will too."

Charlotte shook in mock fright.

Frances coldly snapped, "You're lucky you're holding that toddler, Weasley."

Before she grew any angrier, Xavier led her away from the group and up the stairs to the second level of the bookstore.

Once they were out of earshot, Frances screamed, "Who the hell do they think they are? Papa will hear about this!"

Xavier hushed her and handed her a book, "Here, why don't you read a bit? I'm going to find a book on dragon names. I need to name my newborn dragon."

Frances sighed at his retreating back and opened the book, _Jane Eyre_. She wasn't sure if Xavier had just pulled it off the shelf without looking, or if it was intentional, because the Bronte sisters were her favorite authors.

At eight o' clock, Frances and Xavier met up with Lucius at the entrance to Knockturn Alley.

Lucius acknowledged Xavier, "Zabini, your parents told me to take you with us. Come along now."

He led the two eleven year olds down the small, dark alley and entered a mysterious shop, the same one he and his son, Draco, had entered nineteen-some years ago.

Lucius turned to the children, "Now don't touch anything. If you're good I'll buy you each a gift."

Xavier straightened up and stood next to Lucius at the counter. Frances grew impatient while her grandfather talked to a slimy-looking man and wandered off to the other side of the shop.

The place was full of dark artifacts and books. Frances glanced over her shoulder at her grandfather and then reached out and opened a book. It was completely written in a different language: Latin, Frances decided. She could recognize the few words her grandfather had been teaching her. She put the book back and scanned the many skulls in the case on her left. She was about to open the case when something glinting in the window caught her eye. She slowly approached it. It was a small box with encrusted jewels on its lid. Frances took a quick look at Lucius and pulled the lid off. Inside was an assortment of things: jewelry that looked as though it came from medieval times, a shiny, miniature crystal ball, a glinting dagger, and an old journal with crumpled pages and the name _Tom Marvolo Riddle_ on the front.

Frances flipped open the journal and found that there was nothing written in it. She put it back and was about to reach for some of the jewelry when Lucius's walking can came thrashing down on the backside of her hand, penetrating the bones in her left hand. She jumped back and yelped, holding her hand close to her side.

Lucius shut the box and asked, "Did I not say, 'touch nothing'?"

Frances nodded and shakily replied, "Yes, Papa."

Lucius directed the children towards the door, "Wait outside."

Frances and Xavier stalked out the door and sat down on the stone bench.

Xavier snarled, "Well, you ruined that one."

Frances ignored him and watched the people further down the alley. Soon Lucius appeared outside with a long, silver sword, which had dark, crimson stones consigned in the handle. He handed the sword to Xavier. Xavier took it and took a breath.

Lucius said, "I hope it's not too heavy for you to hold." Xavier shook his head and continued goggling at the sword. Lucius answered, "Good."

Then he handed Frances the box she had been looking through. She smiled and thanked her grandfather. The three quickly left Knockturn Alley.

The rest of the morning went quite well, and now Lucius, Narcissa, and Draco were standing on the platform with Pansy, Blaise, and Eleanor Zabini watching Violet, Xavier, Frances, and Forrest onto the train.

Frances hugged her grandfather, kissed her grandmother, and shook hands with her father. Then she boarded the train.

Once she and Forrest found an open window, she hung out the side and yelled, waving, "Goodbye, Grandmummy! Goodbye, Papa, I'll write you! Goodbye, Draco!"

Forrest nudged his sister out of the way and shouted, "Bye Dad! Bye Grandpa! Bye Grandmummy! Send me some cookies!"

Narcissa smiled and blew a kiss to her grandson as the train began to pull away. Frances and Forrest shut the window and went to find an open compartment. They found one already inhabited by Xavier. Frances sat down next to him and Forrest sat in the corner. Soon the door slid open and a tall, slightly chubby boy stepped in and sat down next to Forrest. Frances knew this boy by the name of William Goyle, but they all called him Willie. Willie was closely followed by a short girl with shoulder length, brown hair and glasses. This girl was another friend, Mariel Flint. Mariel was Marcus Flint's offspring and the girl hated admitting so, because she was extremely smart and her father was a little dense. (A/N: So, no, it is not me.)

Frances barely acknowledged these people, for she was flipping through the empty journal and watching the scenery go by. Page after page it was nothing. There were dates in the upper left and right hand corners, but no other writing. She sighed and held the journal open, looking out the window. Suddenly a sharp pain pulsed on the right side of her head. She held two fingertips up to the sore spot and rubbed, but the pain grew bigger. She gasped and looked at the others in the compartment. Something flickered behind her eyes, in the far back of her mind, and abruptly the room faded of color. It was like she was watching an old-fashioned Muggle movie in black and white. She blinked a few times, but this made her head produce a larger twinge of pain. She looked down at the journal and discovered its pages now bared writing. Much to her headache's dismay, she began to read.

_Friday, April 12, 1942, 11:34_

_-Today was an exceptionally good day, though it started off bad. I had started to make fun of Minerva McGonagall, because she's merely a pathetic excuse for an intellectual witch, and her little goody two shoes friend, Lucille Finnegan, the one with the freckles and blonde locks, decided to defend her._

_I said, "Where's Dumbledore, Minervie? Shouldn't you two be up in the Astronomy Tower studying the anatomy of each other's bodies?"_

_Instead of some rude comeback from McGonagall, I got one from Finnegan, "Did your hairline just recede?"_

_Of course, I moved my hand up to feel it and all they all laughed at me. Before I could come up with a comeback, Finnegan shot at me, "You're nothing but an arrogant pretty boy snob who thinks he's better than everyone else."_

_This really irked me, so I stormed off and concocted a plan to get back at the little witch._

_Now, as I just got back from my vengeance seeking quest, I'll tell you a little about it._

_I followed Lucille into the bathroom, and while she was in the stall, I opened the chamber and unleashed the horror within. Of course, Miss Finnegan was too stupid to know what hit her and did not realize that if she looked into the Basilisk's eyes she would die. That's not my fault, now is it? I left her body and came back to write this._

_Farewell,_

_-Tom Marvolo Riddle_

Frances finished reading and looked up from the page. The compartment had returned to its original state: in color. Her headache was gone and when she looked back down to the page, the writing was gone. Frances sighed and put the journal away, deciding to take a snooze the rest of the way there.

Frances was shaken awake by her brother, "Frances, you dumb lard, get up!"

Frances shook her brother away, mumbling, "Get away from me, you goon."

Forrest shrugged and made his way out of the compartment. Frances picked up her belongings and joined her brother. When she met up with the group, they all stood staring ahead. Frances made out to see what they were looking at and soon jumped back in shock.

"What the bloody hell is that?" she asked, pointing at a large, grey-haired, giant-looking man that was calling the first years.

Mariel answered, without looking away from the man, "My father said his name is Rubeus Hagrid. He's the Care of Magical Creatures teacher at Hogwarts. Real nasty looking oaf if you ask me."

The group snickered and got into a boat. They made their way across the lake and entered the castle. A very old-looking woman introduced herself.

"My name is Professor McGonagall. I am the Transfiguration teacher here at Hogwarts and the head of Gryffindor house. Now you are going to be sorted into your houses momentarily. The houses are Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. Your house will be like a second family. You will receive points for your house for doing acts of generosity. Any rule breaking will cost you points. Any questions?"

The group of first years sat in silence; Professor McGonagall answered, "Very well. Follow me."

She led them all into the Great Hall. Frances studied the ceiling, which looked as though there wasn't one. Professor McGonagall began to speak. Frances already didn't like the lady; she talked too much.

"Now I will put the sorting hat on your head and it will sort you into your house. Once you are sorted, you may go sit with your house."

Then she began the sorting, "Abbot, Geni."

A short, blonde girl sat down dully.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Aziul, Ezekiel."

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Bennington, Ramona."

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Bones, Yasmin."

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Clingier, Cory."

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Converse, Whitney."

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Derricks, Natalie."

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Finnegan, Wesley."

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Flint, Mariel."

Mariel stepped up to the platform and sat down. As the sorting hat was placed on her head, she adjusted her glasses. Her head itched, so she put her hand under the hat and itched.

The hat seemed irked, "You've got a lot of nerve…hmm…SLYTHERIN!"

Mariel removed the hat and crossed her arms on the way to the table.

"Goedken, Levi."

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Goyle, William."

"SLYTHERIN!"

The sorting went on and McGonagall came across the M's.

"Malfoy, Forrest."

Forrest stalked up to the stool and sat down, trying his best to slump without a back to the chair.

The sorting hat had barely been placed on his head when it shouted, "SLYTHERIN!"

"Malfoy, Francesca."

Frances grumbled at the sound of her full name. She trudged up to the stool and sat down. Much unlike her brother, she sat with her back as straight as a board. She licked her lips nervously and waited for the sorting hat to sort her.

"Hmmm…the intellect of a Ravenclaw…"

Frances debated. She wouldn't mind being put in Ravenclaw. But it would disappoint her grandparents and Draco.

"The bravery of a Gryffindor…I suppose Hufflepuff isn't the place for you."

Frances shook her head mentally.

"You definitely have the hunger for power; just like your father and your grandfather…Slytherin would be a good place for you and your schemes. Just like your brother."

Frances bit her lip, 'Please Slytherin, Please Slytherin.'

"SLYTHERIN!"

Frances considered this luck and joined her table.

A/N: Hmm…hint; hint…Frances is a Seer. Duh! No I'm only kidding, for those of you who didn't figure it out. I've had this idea for a while and here it is in story form. Review, cos I love those. I am working on _Love, Lies, Mercury Messaging, and iPods_, don't worry. I only have writers' block and it's taking longer than expected. Blah blah blah.

MAF


	2. Draco

_**Frances Malfoy and the Restoration of the Chamber of Secrets**_

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any lyrics used in this story. I do however own the characters I have made up…ha-ha. You try and take them, I'll sue you.**

**Chapter 2: Draco**

"_My name is Francesca Adrienne Malfoy. Everyone calls me Frances, though."_

_The small, blonde-haired girl held out her hand and when he would not shake it, she frowned and asked, "Why won't you shake my hand?"_

"_I am sick, Frances, very sick."_

"_Oh. What's your name?"_

"_Thomas."_

Draco jerked out of his slumber and glanced around the screened in patio. There was nothing but the heavy rain outside and the forest of green around him. He thought back to the dream. Was it a dream? It had seemed so real. If it was, Draco was now pondering the thought that his daughter had somehow discovered Lord Voldemort hidden within the dungeon walls. Draco shook his head and stood. With one last glance around the greenroom, Draco stalked down to his father's study.

When he opened the door he saw his father sitting behind the desk writing, hunched over what appeared to be a letter. He glanced up at Draco through his spectacles and continued scribbling away like mad.

Draco watched and then sat down, "What are you working on, Father?"

Lucius dipped his quill into the ink bottle, "A letter to Francesca."

Draco sat up and asked, "Did she write?"

"Yes. So did Forrest. His letter's right there." Lucius pointed to the corner of the desk.

Draco reached over and picked it up. He unfolded it and began reading his son's chicken scratches:

_Dear Father, Grandmother, and Grandfather,_

_The first day of school has gone extremely well. I was sorted into Slytherin, of course, as was Frances, much to my dismay. Xavier is also in Slytherin and we've had the best of time, pulling a few tricks on our other Slytherin friends: Willie Goyle, Mariel Flint, and Devon Hilton._

_Lucas Potter and Henry Weasley were sorted into Gryffindor, just like their fathers. I began to introduce myself, but they turned up their noses and said, 'We've already had enough of your sister, Malfoy.' Frances ruins everything, that barmy little brat. _

_I must go now, my friends are calling me. I'll write to discuss my classes tomorrow._

_With love,_

_Forrest_

Draco smirked and tossed the letter back onto the desk. He examined his fingers and waited for his father to be finished.

He asked, "Is that Frances's letter?" He indicated a stack of parchment that must have been eight or nine pages long, much longer in contrast to Forrest's.

Lucius nodded. Draco leaned in to snatch the letter, but his father's reflexes were too sharp. Lucius's walking cane came crashing down onto Draco's hand, similar to when he clouted Frances. Draco flinched and removed his hand hastily.

"What was that for?" he snapped angrily.

Lucius had not even looked up from his work, "I'm not finished with it."

Draco glared at his father and then sighed, asking, "What does it say?"

"It is rather similar to Forrest's. Her sorting experience, the friends she made, what classes she's taking, and…" he paused and looked at the letter, "well…it's not much of your business. Nothing for you to worry about."

Draco retorted, "I think it is my business to worry about. She's my daughter."

Lucius replied coolly, "She doesn't seem to think so."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Draco was growing rather red in the face.

Lucius smirked the smirk that he had once tried to teach Draco, but Draco hadn't enough maliciousness to muster that kind of smirk. Draco shivered in his chair.

"If you must know, Francesca seems to believe you're not much of a fatherly figure. Tell me Draco, do you really think she loves you as much as you assume she does?"

Draco clenched his jaw. His father had been doing this sort of thing to him since he was four. It was a sense of false accomplishment and Draco had yet to get used to it. He flared his nostrils.

Lucius smirked harder, "Just wander back upstairs, Draco. Your mother and I have everything handled here. There's no need to interfere. It might cause confusion in their small, innocent heads."

Draco rose slowly and shakily left the room. After he had ordered one of the houselves to bring him some pillows and a sleeping concoction, Draco wandered upstairs. His father was right. He had no control over his children's lives. Their grandparents had taken care of them for their whole life. Mr. and Mrs. Lucius Malfoy were the names on their required birth certificates, the names on the official Hogwarts papers, the names on the life insurance policy papers. Draco was just a spectator. His father and mother ran the game. Draco sighed once more before his head hit the pillow.

Draco woke up in the late in the afternoon. He slid off the bed and put his robes back on, combing through his messy hair before going downstairs.

Earlier than he could turn around and head back up the stairs, his father spoke to him in a cold, low voice, "Enjoy your nap, Draco?"

Draco narrowed his eyes at the back of his father's head, "In fact, I did."

Lucius furrowed his brow and then tossed his copy of the _Daily Prophet_ onto the sofa cushion next to him, "Come take a look at this. Page 3."

Draco stalked over to the sofa and picked up the newspaper, flipping open to page three. The headline read: **Arthur and Molly Weasley Desperately Turn to Ministry: Ginny Weasley Goes Missing**. Draco snorted. He always knew that one of the Weasleys would end up missing. There were just too many of them.

He turned to his father, "What's your point?"

Lucius murmured, "We work with the Ministry, Draco. You're a Auror. You're going to look for her."

Draco glowered, "What makes you think I would want to look for this…this…piece of scum?"

"The money, Draco. Honestly, where did all your brains go?" Lucius asked, shaking his head.

Dracogrumbled and turned on his heel, "Down the toilet with the rest of my life."

Lucius clucked his tongue while Draco made his way back up the stairs. He came back down, fully dressed in black: black pants, black shirt, black robes, and black loafers. His shaggy white-blonde hair stuck out improbably against his attire.

Draco pulled out his wand and said over his shoulder, "I'm checking in with the Ministry. I'll be back." Then he disapparated.

He arrived in the office of the former Minister, Cornelius Fudge. But after his sudden death (an attack from Draco's father and other Deatheaters, no doubt), the office now belonged to a chubby man with who had lost nearly all his red hair. Instead of the shabby clothes he always used to wear, the man was now wearing quite exquisite robes.

Draco sat down across the desk from the man and waited for him to look up from his work. The man seemed to be nearly blind also, so Draco cleared his throat, very loudly.

The man jerked in his chair and looked up, jumping to see Draco Malfoy sitting across from him, "Mr. Malfoy, what brings you here at this hour?"

"It's merely seven o'clock, sir." Draco replied, his arms crossed.

The man glanced at his clock and muttered, "Oh, yes, you're quite right. But, um, let's see, you didn't say what you want."

Draco uncrossed his arms and leaned forward on the desk, "I've come to look for your daughter, sir."

Arthur Weasley nearly fell out of his chair. He recovered and called for his secretary, "Miss Patil!"

Padma Patil appeared in the doorway with a large stack of papers in one arm. Her eyeliner was somewhat smeared and her knee-length, black skirt was wrinkled, "Yes, Mr. Weasley?"

Minister Weasley shouted and pointed at Draco, "Who let this boy in?"

Padma's eyes scanned over Draco and she shrugged, "I do not know, sir. I haven't. What seems to be the problem?"

Arthur bellowed, "This boy thinks he is going to find my daughter!"

Padma set the papers down a chair and adjusted her glasses, "Mr. Malfoy is a highly respected Auror. He seems quite fit for the job."

Draco kept quiet, though very smug with himself. Mr. Weasley said with an exasperated tone, "I do _not_ want a Deatheater looking for my daughter!"

Draco's face darkened. He did not know why, though. He was a Deatheater, so why was he angry?

"Sir, I can assure you that your daughter is in safe hands. I am interested in the job."

Mr. Weasley crossed his arms over his chest, unwillingly. Draco pulled out some money, trying to compensate with the man.

"Can I have the job if I say, 'fifty thousand galleons'?"

Mr. Weasley looked at the money, Draco, then to Padma, who stared at the money, wide-eyed.

Finally, Mr. Weasley took the money and said, "If anything happens to her, you're landed in Azkaban, Malfoy."

Draco shrugged and disapparated. He arrived in his father's old office, which was now his. He immediately began searching through the papers on his desk and found one which he had taken notes on the case.

"Was last seen in Muggle London…" Draco threw the paper onto the desk and headed for the closet. He searched the closet high and low for his maps that detected wizards all over the face of the planet. Draco shut the door and looked around the office. He spotted them on the top shelf of his tall bookcases. He grabbed the foot ladder and placed it along a column of books. At the top he grabbed the map of Muggle London and threw it onto the floor. But before he could step back down, something caught his eye: a shiny necklace. Draco grasped it and studied it. Its links were made of medieval-looking metal and it had ruby red jewels within the links. Draco figured that possibly Frances left it up here; she sometimes sat upon the tops of the bookshelves with her belongings and would watch Draco work. Draco shrugged and left it upon the bookshelf.

Draco rolled out the map across the floor and looked at the moving dots. Red dots were wizards, green were Muggles, and blue were Squibs. Black were other creatures. Most of the dots were green, a few were blue. Draco detected one black dot. It was lingering around the Leaky Cauldron. Then, as he was scanning the map for a third time, a red dot suddenly appeared in a seven-story building, which consisted of Muggle flats. He watched the dot move up to the top floor, closely followed by a green dot. The two dots stopped in a flat and came extremely close together. If this was the youngest Weasley, she was up to something very peculiar with a Muggle.

Draco folded the map, put it in his pocket, and disapparated onto the nearest Muggle street. He appeared right outside the building. He looked up to the top floor. All the lights in one flat were on. Draco opened the doors and began the journey up six flights of stairs. He reached the top and discovered that the hallway was completely dark, except for the glow coming from under the door of the flat he was investigating. Either no one lived on this top floor or the people were vampires.

Draco pulled out the map and lit his wand. He could see himself on the top floor, along with the other witch/wizard and the Muggle. The funny thing was, on every floor there were Muggle dots in every flat. On the top level, however, there were none. Draco furrowed his brow.

Unexpectedly the door opened and Draco could hear a girl yelling, "Get out, you filthy asshole! And take your goddamned jacket with you!"

The Muggle that had been in the room with her stepped out in shock, carrying a jacket. His facial expression was shaken and he stumbled all the way down the stairs. When he was out of sight, Draco stepped out of the shadows. He slowly approached the door, took a breath, and knocked. The sound of the hollow knocking echoed in the empty hallway. The door opened and Draco looked at the girl, who was indeed, Ginny Weasley.

Draco smirked, "Top of the evening to you, Weasley."

Ginny squeaked and attempted to shut the door, but Draco caught it with one hand, "Now Weasley, I am a man of the authorities," he pulled out his Auror's badge, "and I have the right to search this here flat."

Ginny sighed and allowed him to come in. Draco stepped in and looked around. It was a big, high-ceilinged room with wood floors. The white paint was chipping, which made it look old and antique-ish. The kitchen was separated from the living space by a bar, which was lined by metal-frame stools. The sofas were black leather, set up horizontal to the plasma screen TV on the wall. One sofa was covered by a white sheet and pushed into the far corner. A hallway off to the side led to at least three bedrooms.

Draco studied the grand piano on the far side of the room and said, "Pretty nice place you've got here, Weasley. It is yours isn't it?"

Ginny crossed her arms, "Yes."

"Where'd you get all the money to buy this stuff? Rob a bank?"

"No. I robbed it from my older brother. He's dead now." Ginny said with an 'as-a-matter-of-fact' tone.

Draco sat down at a kitchen stool and pulled out a pen and paper, "I'll have to ask you a few questions."

"Fine." was the answer he got.

"You do know that you have been declared 'missing' right?"

"Yes."

"Who is your kidnapper, if you have one?"

"Myself."

"You kidnapped yourself?"

"Yes."

Draco raised an eyebrow.

"Well not technically. I ran away after I stole my dead brother's money."

"So let me get this straight, you stole your brother's money and ran away with it? Why?"

"I wasn't supposed to get any of it. It was all supposed to go to my father and his precious Ministry job and my brothers. And after I found out that my mum got the dragon hatchery in Romania, I got angry because I was left with nothing. So I stole the money while my parents were sleeping and ran off with it. I also wanted away from the wizarding world for a while."

"Why's that?"

Ginny hesitated a bit and then began rolling up her left sleeve. She held up her left arm for Draco to see. There, on the underside of her arm, was the Dark Mark.

Draco nearly fell out of his seat, "You're a Deatheater?"

She looked down, "Yeah. I didn't want everyone to know."

"So now you've got all the money you want and you've made a living for yourself up here. You've got some good motives, Weasley."

Ginny suddenly burst out in plea, "Please don't tell anyone where I am, Malfoy, please. I'll do anything!"

"That's my job, Weasley, I have to tell them."

"No! I'll do anything to keep you from telling!"

Draco smirked, "Anything?"

Ginny nodded.

"Then how about we go take a look at that bedroom of yours?" he wiggled his eyebrows.

The bridge of Ginny's nose turned white in anger, "You little pervert! Forget it!"

She opened the door, motioning for him to leave. He shrugged and stepped outside. She slammed the door behind him. As Draco was walking down the steps, he stopped, thinking, 'I haven't had a good shag in such a long time!'

He turned around and bounded back up the stairs. Just as he was about to knock, the door flew open and Ginny's arm pulled him in. He bent down and kissed her hard on the lips, and he could tell she didn't mind. She wrapped her arms around his neck and they stumbled around the living room like this.

Ginny pulled away and yanked his black robe off, throwing it across the sofa. Draco quickly pulled his shoes and socks off and then grabbed Ginny by the waist. He threw her against the wall and kissed her again, tongue in her mouth. She ruffled his hair and shoved him into the dark hallway. She twisted the doorknob behind her back and stumbled into the dark bedroom. Draco pulled his black turtleneck off and flung it across the room. Ginny also took off her skin-tight, white t-shirt, revealing a black bra and firm abs in the moonlight pouring through the window. Draco smirked and planted a kiss on her collarbone as she twisted the button on his pants. Soon he was standing in his boxers, fumbling with her jeans.

She grabbed his hands and asked maliciously, "Need some help?"

She gracefully slid out of her jeans and yanked Draco down onto the unmade bed. Ginny pressed her body against Draco as he undid her bra, which thankfully he had not lost talent for. After removing both articles of underwear, Draco and Ginny moved up and down in unison. Draco breathed out loudly; he hadn't done this in quite a while. Ginny arched her back, making Draco moan in a blissful sort of pain. He smirked and ground his pelvis against hers. She clenched her teeth and threw her head back, now feeling pain. She dug her fingernails into his back and he pushed further into her. They rolled around for fifteen to twenty some minutes and Ginny came, her back arched, fingernails clenching Draco's back. Not even thirty seconds later, Draco climaxed and let go, feeling the feeling he had missed for the last two or three years. He collapsed on the other side of Ginny, trying to heave his breathing back to normal. Ginny rolled over and opened her nightstand drawer. She pulled out a cigarette and lit it. Smoking after sex was a new habit she had picked up.

Draco watched her out of the corner of his eye and asked, "Where'd you learn to give a shag like that Weasley?"

Ginny blew a cloud of smoke and answered, "After years of co-ed summer camp and Michael Corner as a boyfriend in school, you learn quite quickly."

Draco chuckled, "Consider yourself the best I've ever had."

Ginny grinned and put out her cigarette. She rolled over and looked at Draco. The two stared at each other until Ginny's eyelids slowly shut. Draco smirked and shut his eyes.

An alarm clock was buzzing in Draco's ear. Ginny crawled over top him and pounded her fist down on it, turning it off. She rolled out of bed and grabbed a towel and some clothes and shut the bathroom door. Draco took this as a sign to get up, so he did, and got dressed. He was out in the living room gathering his stuff together when Ginny reappeared from the bathroom, fully dressed in khaki pants and a dark green cargo, zip-up hoodie. Her hair was pulled up into a loose ponytail, with some dark auburn bangs tucked behind her ear.

She grabbed a pre-made smoothie out of the fridge and said to Draco over her shoulder, "I'm going to work. You can stay if you want, just don't go wander off to the Ministry and tell them where I am. Comprende?"

Draco nodded, "Yeah. Where is it that you work?"

Ginny slung her purse over her shoulder, "Downtown. I'm an intern at Westminster General Hospital. I get to be barked at by nurses and doctors for 48 hour shifts."

Draco chuckled, "So if I stay, I get this whole flat to myself for 48 hours?"

"That's your choice, bud. Who knows? I might need a good stress relieving shag when I get back." she stated and slammed the door as she left.

Draco sat in the kitchen and looked around the empty flat. His father could wait a couple more hours.

**A/N: Thank you to my three reviewers. I'm hoping to get more. Anyhow, I'll just say now that the game plan is to have a Frances chapter, then a Draco chapter, then a Frances chapter, etc.**


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